One Night
by lyndseysmeltzer
Summary: What would have happened if Beckett decided to have a night out after Castle left for the Hamptons? A little OOC for Beckett, she's kind of back to her wild-child phase. PLEASE IF YOU'VE READ THE FIRST CHAPTER READ THE SECOND! I've written a response to some feedback and I really want to clarify some things.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is rated T, but nears the edge towards the end. The description's not terribly detailed, but if you're really sensitive to sexy stuff, maybe you should hold off. (I think I've done it pretty tastefully though, so maybe give it a try?)

Okay, so I generally don't really like stories that are really OOC, and hopefully this is too far away, but I listened to the song "She's Gonna Hurt Somebody" by Chuck Wicks the other day, and this story just refused to be ignored. If you're reading any of my other stories, don't worry, I'm not abandoning them, just needed a bit of a break.

So here you go, hope you like it! (Please review, even if it's to tell me I've murdered Beckett's character.)

* * *

Kate watched as Castle walked away with Gina. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, could feel her heart breaking at the thought of how close she had come. She almost had him; why hadn't she just said yes when he'd asked her? Why was she always telling herself that she couldn't have what she wanted?

Before she could so much as blink away the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, Montgomery walked out of the conference room. Without looking at her he told her he'd see her next week, effectively giving her the excuse she craved, allowing her to leave.

As she packed up her things, Kate almost laughed, remembering that she's ridden her bike this morning to surprise Castle. Now, she was grateful for the level of danger and exhilaration it would afford her. She didn't want to go home and wallow, cry her eyes out as she reread _Heat Wave_, though she was sure that would happen sometime in the very near future. What she wanted, well what she really wanted had just walked out the door, but what she would settle for was a night out. Not with Lanie, that would be counterproductive in her quest to forget; forget his arm laced around Gina's waist, forget the tears she was desperate to keep from falling, forget all the emotions she'd finally accepted, and in general just forget _him_. If only for one night. Tomorrow she could wallow and cry. Tonight, for the first time in a long time, she wanted to simply have fun.

After securing her purse in her saddlebag, Kate pulled out the change of clothes she kept there. She had put the skin-tight jeans, light gray deep v-neck tee, and three inch black spike stilettos there years earlier and all but forgotten them. She kept a similar outfit in her crown vic, just in case she ever needed to go undercover without notice. Tonight however, she just wanted to look sexy.

When she pulled up to the bar, she neither knew nor cared what its name was, all she was concerned about was the music emanating from the doorway, and the line of people waiting. She parked across the street, letting the bouncer get a good look at her ass as she pulled her helmet off, shook her hair out, and bent down attach her helmet to the saddlebag.

She walked across the street and straight up to the bouncer, ignoring the line completely. As she put on a show for him, allowing him a pretty good glimpse of her lacey red bra, Kate tried not to remember the last time she'd talked her way into a club. Because that time it had been to save _his_ ass, and she didn't want to think about him any longer. Walking into the bar, she smiled and her shoulders relaxed, already feeling some of the emotions and tension draining away. The place was packed, but she easily found her way to a barstool; it may have been her imagination, but it seemed that everyone was looking at her, giving her room. She liked it, for once allowing herself to enjoy the attention.

As she sat and ordered a beer she took a better look around. Always the cop, she scoped out all the exits and the fire extinguisher behind the bar, and clocked as many faces as she could from where she was sitting. There was a band on the stage across the dance floor, currently playing a decent cover of "Talk Dirty to Me." Kate wanted to dance, but she'd wait for a partner, she was perfectly content to smile at the twenty-something bartender who almost dropped her beer as she caught his eye. She turned back to the crowd, chuckling.

It took twenty minutes for anyone to even come within five feet of her. She watched amusedly as no less than half a dozen men walked purposefully toward her, only to lose their nerve before they made it halfway. Finally, one chalked up enough courage to sit on the stool next to hers, holding up two fingers at the bartender, then pointing at her beer.

"A body like that, _and_ you drink beer? I didn't think women like you existed." _Strike one_, Kate winced. Pick-up lines she could handle, even bad ones, but underneath it all, she was a cop, and cops drank beer. She had always despised the stereotype that women didn't drink beer, and she hated being called out as an exception.

"If you're looking for a sorority girl with an appletini, I think there's a college bar a block over." She knew she was being overly snarky, but she didn't care. Tonight wasn't about making friends, or even finding a boyfriend, if she'd wanted that, she would've called Demming; tonight was about release of all the emotions she's been keeping pent-up lately. And this guy was wasting her time if he was going to act like an ass.

"Oh, God, that truly was terrible wasn't it?" Kate raised her eyebrows and nodded as if to say 'Duh.' He put his face in his hands, looking utterly defeated. "My apologies. My friend and I saw you walk in. When he saw you with the beer, he knew I wanted to come over here, so he dared me to use that line. I'm sorry; I'll just go." He slid off the barstool and turned to walk away. She liked to think she could read a play, and this wasn't one; he wasn't pretending to fall on his sword so that she'd pity him. His genuine embarrassment for his own actions was cute, so she reached out and grasped his wrist, pulling him back.

"I'm Kate," she said, smiling at the look of shock on his face.

"B-Brent." He stammered, taking his seat again. Now that she looked at him properly, she figured him for late twenties, maybe a year or two senior to the bartender. He was slender, almost boyish, making him cute, rather than handsome. Wearing ripped jeans, a faded "Where's the Beef" tee that seemed to perfectly fit with the 80s theme the bar had going tonight, and Chuck Taylors, he had the look of a guy just out of college. It wasn't what she usually went for anymore, not since her own college days, but different was exactly what she needed tonight. The band started playing "Cherry Pie" and she smiled at Brent seductively. This was going to be fun. She took a long pull from her beer and grabbed his hand.

"Let's dance." She pulled him onto the dance floor, immediately pressing herself against him. His eyes nearly bugged out of his skull when she began swaying her hips with the beat.

She wasn't this girl anymore. In college she had gone to bars and brought home a few random men, but not since she graduated had she done something like this. But damn it all if it didn't feel _so_ good. She was a young, sexy woman living in New York City for cryin' out loud; why couldn't she let go and have some fun every once in a while? Why did she have to act so damn grown up all the time? And why, for the love of all that is holy, did she have to mope around pining after a childish, egotistical, annoying, cocky, snarky, funny, loyal adoring, ruggedly handsome _jackass_?

_No, not Castle!_ Kate thought. _Brent! Cute, shy, sexy in a laid-back, he's definitely younger than me kind of way, Brent_. She ground her hips more firmly into him as if the act would irrevocably erase all her memories of Castle. It didn't, but it did make Brent groan, and that would have to be enough.

She looked up at him through her lashes, his eyes had darkened and the edges of his lips were pulling upwards in a seductive smile. His fingers had started to roam, sending a few tingles down her spine; they were weak, but they were enough to send a coil of heat to her core. And that was enough to affirm her decision.

"Let's get out of here." She said into his ear over the last cords from the band. She didn't look back at his face, worried the look of astonishment she was sure resided there would shake her resolve. Leading him out by the hand, she noticed again that the crowd seemed to part for her. She didn't know exactly why everyone seemed to be giving her looks of terror, she knew she was intimidating when she wanted to be, but she had never gotten looks like this before outside of the interrogation room.

When they reached the street Kate headed for her bike, pulling the helmet out of her saddlebag and handing it to Brent. Immediately he dropped her hand and looked as if he was about to pass out.

"What?" She asked coyly. "You've never seen a woman with her own bike before?" He opened his mouth to answer, but seemed unable to form any words, so he just shook his head instead. She laughed and swung a leg over the seat before patting miniscule space behind her. When he'd collected his wits and buckled the strap of the helmet around his chin, he sat behind her, scooting tight against her ass and legs so he wouldn't fall off. He gasped a little when she accelerated and his groin rubbed against her.

Kate drove the short distance to a hotel she'd spotted on her way to the bar. It was on the sleazy side, but she'd never been called to a crime scene there, and it was cleaner than most, so she rented a room while Brent attempted futilely to drive her crazy by playing his fingers across her hip. She squirmed a bit for his benefit, smiling again when she heard his breath grow ragged.

Opening the door to the room, she heard a voice in the back of her mind telling her this was quite possibly the worst idea she'd had since deciding to give Castle a chance. She squelched the voice though, telling it to shut up because she wasn't going to think about _him_ anymore, only Brent, and the fact that he was now kissing her neck from behind. She leaned into him and tilted her head so he'd have more access. She let out a soft moan when he, no doubt accidentally, found a particularly sensitive spot just below her ear.

At that she felt him stiffen against her hip and she turned to face him. Grabbing the back of his neck, she pulled him down and crushed her lips against his. He let out a groan and took her thighs in his hands, pulling her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. After he laid her gently on the bed, how she wished he'd have put more force into it, Kate began divesting him of his clothing. Seeing his toned body as his fingers slowly slid under her shirt, she felt the heat low in her abdomen spark a little hotter. She wouldn't consider herself shallow, but any woman would appreciate Brent's flat stomach and strong arms.

When both were rid of fabric, Brent's eyes sparkled with awe and lust, but Kate started to feel the seed of regret settle low in her stomach. She knew she wouldn't stop what was happening; it had been a very long day, full of emotional ups and downs, and then downs again. The weight of emotional frustration she'd saddled herself with by not allowing herself to just _feel_ was crushing her, and she really, _really_, needed this right now. Well, not exactly _this_, Brent wasn't what, or rather who, she really needed, but again she pushed away the thought, and the regret, and pulled him to her.

A few minutes later, she could sense Brent climbing, could tell by the way he was getting a bit sloppy in his movements that this would be over soon. But Kate just couldn't get there. She'd had bad sex before, not in a while, but it wasn't something a person forgot. This however, was a new low. She'd gone out with the intention of finding pleasure to drown out her pain, but now she just felt numb. It wasn't really even Brent's fault per se; her body seemed to know he wasn't the man her heart wanted, so it just wasn't responding to him.

Brent nipped lightly at her collarbone, eliciting a minimal response from her, and she gave up. She could no longer prevent herself from thinking about Castle, damn him. Surely he would be nothing if not proficient in bed. A small moan escaped her as she corrected herself, because Castle wouldn't just be proficient in bed, he was sure to be extraordinary.

Misreading her moan as enthusiasm for him, Brent smiled against her shoulder before running the tip of his tongue up along her pulse point. Giving in completely, Kate shut her eyes and imagined it was Castle's tongue; instantly her entire body seemed to sensitize. When Brent's fingers ran up her sides, she told herself they were Castle's, and her heart rate skyrocketed as her back arched. Brent was truly getting very sloppy now, but she didn't care because in her mind it was Castle, and that had her climbing at an almost alarming rate.

He obviously noticed her reaction, because he brought his lips down on hers. _I'm kissing Richard freaking Castle_, she thought to herself, knowing full well it was a lie but ignoring it. And with that blissful fantasy, Kate hit the peak.

"Caas-tle," she cried as she crashed over the edge, coherent thought erased as more pleasure than she'd ever experienced washed over her like a tidal wave. As she slowly fell back to Earth, she felt Castle, no _Brent_, slump against her chest briefly before rolling to lie beside her. She really didn't want to open her eyes, shame and, yes, there it was again, regret were beginning to wash over her too, and she didn't want to face the reality of what had just happened quite yet.

_But wasn't it amazing?_ She asked herself. _And it hadn't even actually been him touching me! And oh if felt so real and perfect…_

"Hey." Kate's veins flooded with ice as she heard Brent speak beside her. She popped one eye open cautiously to see that he had a stupid grin on his face and his fingers were gently twirling on her stomach. She hadn't even felt them there. "That was…" he paused, either searching for the right word or waiting for her to finish the sentence like they were in some sappy rom-com. She couldn't decide which, so she just stared at him, trying not to visualize him as Castle. "Extraordinary." He finished and Kate flinched. He moved in to kiss her and it was all she could do not to jump away from him and run for the proverbial hills, or at least her Softail parked on the street.

Laying back, Brent snuggled against her side. _Oh hell, he actually wants to spoon_. Kate remained on her back, refusing both to be his little spoon, and to look at him. He didn't seem to mind, he simply rested his head on the pillow and draped an arm over her stomach.

She couldn't breath. His arm was nowhere near her windpipe, but it was suffocating her. She felt trapped as she listened to his breathing, repulsed by herself and her actions. How had she let this happen? Why hadn't she just gotten drunk and taken a cab home? No, she would've hated herself even more had she done that. She knew from close observation that drowning pain in alcohol did nothing but add more pain. Meaningless sex with a random stranger really wasn't much better, but at least it wasn't alcohol; she could never do that to herself.

When Brent's breathing became deep and steady, she finally looked over at him, another pang of guilt slicing through her. He looked so _young_. Not young enough to make her worry about legal proceedings, but just young enough for her to feel even worse about herself. He would probably tell his friends the next day all about his incredible one night stand with the biker chick from the bar, but she knew she would never tell a soul about it.

Being very careful not to wake him, Kate extricated herself and looked around for her clothes. As she dressed she, again, thought of Castle and the fact that, had she just said yes when he'd first asked her to the Hamptons, she would be with him right now, most likely in his bed, not slinking out of a hotel room. Heat flared in her stomach again at the thought before she chastised herself and went back to feeling disgusted at what she'd done.

Kate was not this girl anymore, or at least she hadn't been until Richard Castle had obliviously rejected her. She was Detective Kate Beckett, strong, independent, and reserved. She had grown out of her wild-child phase long ago. As she quietly left the room and rode the elevator down to where she'd left her motorcycle, all she felt was shame; there would be a time later, in the morning most likely, when she would realize the gravity of the fact that she'd fantasized about Castle while having sex with another man, but for now she ignored that and tried not to feel her body getting sore in all the right places.

This was going to be a very long summer.

* * *

I hope you liked it. Listen to the song if you want to here where the idea came from.

Song credits: "Talk Dirty to Me", Poison and "Cherry Pie", WARRANT

Just so you know, I'm thinking I'm going to change my pen name, my current pseudonym is boring me. I think it'll be something like Lyndz0334. I hope I don't confuse anyone. Thanks for reading!


	2. Author's Note

Okay, so the only reason I'm adding this chapter is to respond to a few of the guest reviews that I've received and I don't want anybody to think I intended this story to be something that I didn't. First of all, THANK YOU! I'm so glad you gave me your opinion.

So now to what was said. For the person who said that they don't think Beckett had a wild child phase: I only assume that she did because of some of the things she, and a few other characters, have said about her when she was in high school. Mainly I'm talking about Maddie saying she was the biggest scofflaw at their school. And yes, I know that doesn't mean she would do anything like this, but I kind of just ran with the idea that she was a little on the crazy side. Also, there have been times when Beckett herself has said things, such as the grunge-rocker who smelled like clove cigarettes, and the tattoo And she has said things to Castle that suggest she was very different from the way Alexis was in high school. I can't remember specific episodes, but I know that she's told him that he doesn't want to know what she did in a situation that Alexis was in, or at least a similar one. That being said, I in no way believe that she would have done something like this, earlier in her life, or at the end of season two. I guess I should have been more adamant that it was out of character. Also, I agree with you that just because you have tattoos and/or a motorcycle, doesn't necessarily mean you're wild. I myself have tattoos and am the absolute opposite of wild. So I did not in any way mean to suggest that. I wrote this because it was stuck in my head after listening to a song. I in no way think that Beckett would actually do this.

And to the person who said after my story they don't respect Beckett's principles: please don't think that! I respect the decision to hate the version of Beckett I wrote, but please don't translate to the real Beckett written by Marlowe. He would never have her do this in a million years and I believe that her principles are, for the most part, impeccable. Like I said, I should have put more emphasis on the fact that this story was OOC, and you're right, it isn't cute, sweet, endearing, or romantic. I wrote it that way because I wanted you to feel she was at least a bit pathetic. We all felt so much pain for her when the episode ended and she was left crying; I guess I wanted to explore the idea that, instead of just pushing down her emotions and getting back to work (like I've always assumed she did over that summer), she maybe self-destructed a little bit. On another note, thank you for pointing out the irony of the story, that Beckett can sleep with a random guy, but can't tell Castle how she feels. That was a big part of my thought process when I was writing it. Mainly because I think it is similar (but not exactly the same) as the irony in the show that she can face down guns and bombs and dangerous murderers, but can't face her feelings for a man that just wants to keep her safe. Also, you are 100% correct in saying that Castle deserves so much more than what I had Beckett do in my story; they both deserve more than her hiding her feelings and drowning the pain.

So, to recap:

I assume Beckett had a wild phase from the few things she's said over the years, but I have absolutely no proof.

I should have clarified that this story was OOC more than I did (I was kind of kidding myself there).

I in no way believe Beckett would have actually gone to a bar and slept with a random guy after the season 2 finale, this story was just an idea that grabbed onto my brain and I felt the (possibly misguided) urge to share it.

I think Andrew Marlowe is incredible and has a vastly better grasp on Beckett than I do.

I think Kate Beckett is amazing and wonderful and definitely not the type of girl to sleep around.

I do not own Castle, which is something I should have clarified, but I forgot.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE all of you guys and am so glad to hear what you think of my story. And please tell me if you find issue with anything I've said here. Also, if you wish to discuss this more with me, PM me and I'll be ecstatic to hear what you've got to say.

As an end note. Like I said in the author's note in the story, I myself do not generally like OOC stories, and try not to write them. I have other stories, and I'm not trying to self-promote or anything, but I'm just saying that anything else you see from me is likely to be as true to character as I can get it. I love these characters so much and I want to do them justice when I write, which I see now that I failed to do with this story. And for that, I apologize. If you guys think it would be best, I'll just delete this story altogether; I may do that anyways, I don't know. But again, thank you for your comments and thanks for reading all this gibberish.

Much love, Lyndsey


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